Joey's Story
by Mage of the White Beast
Summary: Driven out one night by his father, Joey Wheeler wanders the lonely streets of Domino, until he meets a single friend who just may change his life.
1. Chapter 1

"Ow, dammit," Joey Wheeler muttered as he gently touched his cheek. He looked in the mirror at his reflection. The deep red mark on his face would no doubt be a bruise by school tomorrow. He sighed. That meant Yugi and Téa were guaranteed to ask about it. He had told them so many times that he got into fights that he wasn't sure why they even bothered to question him. It was apparently just part of their good-friend nature.

            He sighed again. _An' I'm lucky to have friends in my condition,_ he thought. Especially friends so loyal. They ended up being his one and only escape from the hell he lived from day to day.

            The throbbing pain had now spread up and into his whole head. _It's time like dis dat I wish we had some ice in 'is damn house. He rubbed his head a little. The pounding was especially bad around his temples. That was the worst part about the beatings. They didn't just hurt when he first got hit, they lingered for a long while afterward._

            Unfortunately, ice was a luxury that Joey didn't have. The tiny refrigerator in the shoddy one-bedroom apartment had died almost a year ago. No one had been hired to fix it, and a new one was as out of the question as the ice was.

            At the thought of the fridge, Joey felt his stomach rumble angrily. He hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, when Yugi had shared half his sandwich with him at lunch. The only thing in the cupboards here at Joey's home was a half a package of Saltine crackers. Not very appealing. Nor did Joey revel in the idea of venturing out beyond the locked bathroom door.

            Suddenly, there was a sharp banging on the door. "You'd better get your ass outta there..." a slurred voice said. Joey looked at the source of the sound with a mix of fear and resolve.

            "Why, so you can gimme another red mark on the face?" Joey shot back.

            "'Cause if you don't I'll make you bleed!" the voice yelled. Then there was the sound of breaking glass, and a loud thud. Joey wondered if his father had finally passed out yet or not, but he dared not open the door to check. He'd been done in by that trick way too many times, and the deep scar on his shoulder blade was a constant reminder of that...

            He was twelve at the time, and his father was rock-bottom drunk, as usual. Joey had locked himself in his bedroom, but his father was angry enough to be pounding incesnantly on the wooden door. It was bound to break soon enough under the barrage from the football-player sized man, and Joey looked around desperately for another way out. The apartment was on the third floor of the building, so jumping out the window was a little out of the question.

            Then the banging stopped. Joey thought maybe his dad had given up, and he cautiously wandered to the door and cracked it open. Just that crack was enough to let his father through, who barged in and brandished half a broken bottle in one hand, slashing wildly at the terrified child. Eventually, his father landed a hard smack across joey's face that sent him to one end of the room, landing him hard on his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. His dad then took the opportunity to dig the jagged glass into Joey's back, causing a gash that took three weeks to seal and another two for new skin to grow.

            Joey put his hand over his shoulder under his shirt. He could still feel it: the raised, bumpy, disfigured line of skin across his back. He had marks similar, though not as severe, on his lower back, left thigh, and down his right leg. It made him think of all the times Yugi, Tristan, and Téa had asked him why he wore pants in the middle of summer. He honestly hoped they never found out the truth. He hated being pitied. 

            Then again, he also hated the idea of not being able to defend himself. He almost wished that he had been sent to jail. It would have been a lot easier to deal with punks in the pen than it was to fight his dad.

            It had been twenty minutes now since the sweet sound of silence had began in the apartment beyond the bathroom door. Joey walked over and near silently unlocked the door, pushing it open barely enough to see through a crack between it and the wall. His muscles tensed, ready for whatever may greet him. All that did was the loud snores of his unconscious father. Joey heaved a sigh of relief. In response, his father stirred slightly, and Joey froze in terror. After a moment that stretched into a millennium, the blonde-haired potbelly on the floor slipped into a dead silence and stillness.

            _Too bad he ain't really, Joey thought. He looked around at the general ransackedness of the place, and his heart sank again. He tiptoed his way over broken glass and around toppled bookshelves, finally arriving at the door. He patted his jacket, searching his pockets. Then he spied what he was looking for on a table back across the room: his keys._

            "Shit," he muttered quietly. He could open the door easily without them, but if his dad woke up and found he was gone... Joey didn't feel like risking not having somewhere to sleep tonight. He started the treacherous journey back across the room. About halfway, as he was trying to squeeze between a table and the wall, his foot caught on the leg of a chair, and down he went with an echoing *THUD*. 

            "What the hell...?" a groggy voice asked. Joey's father picked himself up off the floor and spotted Joey down for the count.

            "You little shit..." he said. Joey looked up, and his eyes widened in panic. He sat up and tried to free his leg, just as his father ran over and shoved the table at him. The edge caught Joey in the chest, pinning him to the wall and knocking the wind out of him. As Joey struggled to take a breath, his dad grabbed an empty bottle off the table and swung at Joey's head. In a split second Joey pushed the table away enough to duck under it and cover his head, shattered brown glass pelting his neck and back. When he felt the last shard glance off, he shoved another chair out of the way and started crawling out as fast as he could. He got out from underneath and stood, but just as we was going to break out into a run, something caught his jacket and threw him backwards. He landed on his back on the same table he had been aiming for in the first place, and in one swift moment snatched the keys and jumped off. He stood still, facing his father. The two were staring at each other like a boxers before the first punch was thrown, appropriate in a sick way.

            No punch was thrown, however, as Joey's dad dropped and shot his leg out, swiping Joey's legs. Joey fell to the floor on his back again and knocked his head on the edge of the table. A trickle of warm goo traveled down the side of his head, down his cheek, and came to rest at the corner of his lip. He lifted his hand and defiantly wiped it away with his thumb, still staring down his...opponent. When his dad went to kick him in the side, Joey rolled away and shot up to his feet. His dad grabbed for him again, but only succeeded in tearing off the green jacket as Joey bolted out the door and slammed it behind him. Luckily, Joey knew that his dad was far too drunk to try to follow, so he was pretty safe for now. He slid down the banisters in the stairwells to make his getaway faster, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him out of the building and as far away as he could go.

            He felt his legs pupming rhythmically: one, two, one, two; his heart pounded in time. His breaths grew ragged and shallow, and his muscles sang out with blinding pain, but he would not, he _could_ not, stop. Not for anything. He glanced behind himself to see if anyone was following him, and ran straight into a tree, knocking him back on his butt. Ok, maybe he could stop now, especially since the pounding in his head was severly messing with his vision, obviously.

            He sat himself on the curb of the street, still panting. Soon, those pants turned into deeper, more sporadic breaths, and Joey buried his face in his hands. He was sitting just outside the circle of brightness from a streetlamp, where the dark was darkest. No one would see him there. No one would notice him and his tear-stained face. No one would hear the choking sobs coming from his throat for a long time afterward.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            Hours later, Joey found himself wandering the streets aimlessly, brooding over the awful truth that was his life. A deep darkness had spread and taken hold over the city, as the moonless night hovered overhead. He wished for anything, anything at all, to take his mind someplace else. Anywhere but the here and now would suffice, as that was what was eating away at his heart and mind at the moment.

            Not that the streets offered any comfort. The silence was disquieting, interrupted only occassionally by the chatter of others like himself: alone and alienated. Only one kind of person ventured outside at night in this part of town, and this wasn't the first time that Joey had been counted among their numbers.

            He walked along the facade of a building, and noticed two young girls standing in the doorway. Very young indeed, probably only about his age, maybe even younger. However, the expressions on their faces boasted not an age-appropriate innocence, but a harsh critique of the world as it was. He knew it all too well; he had seen it in too many youthful faces over the course of his own life. He had also seen himself reflected in it countless times. For them, the world was not as it should be, it was a place of harsh reality and even harsher conditions for those struggling to survive within it.

            One of the girls, with shoulder-length brown hair and light green eyes, walked up to Joey. He stopped a moment, and the girl took up place at his side, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. He, in reply, put an arm halfway around her waist. Joey looked down and away for a moment, his heart and his head suddenly engaged in fierce battle. The girl took the opportunity to encourage the side that would support her by gently stroking Joey's neck a few times with a finger. So soft was her touch, in fact, that the hairs on the back of his neck bristled in response. He looked back up and into her eyes. The soft sea green was offset by the black and blue marks surrounding them, and they looked tired. Not in a need for sleep but in a need for rest from the path she was on. She looked at him, and leaned in, but Joey turned his head away.

            _No. I can't do that, he thought sullenly, although each and every one of his physical senses cried out in protest. He slid his arm out from around her and walked on, not looking back. He could feel her hand linger on his shoulder until it could no longer reach him from where she was standing._

            Joey suddenly found himself wondering how many more there were like her. Not just in this city, but everywhere. People who had somehow missed out on the happy fairy-tale childhood, and were faced with the cruelty of the underworld long before their time. This place, this life, was like Hades incarnate. The lightless night reflected the impenetrable gloom and despair that hung in the air, thick as fog off the ocean shores. Perhaps there was no comfort, not here or anywhere. Maybe life and existence was all there was. There would be no heaven, no hell. Just life to go on living over and over again. Eternal torure for the human race would be no release from what people had cordially decided to name their daily prison: life.

            Joey stopped at the crner of the next building he passed, hiding slightly in the shadows of an alleyway. From the other end, he heard voices drift carelessly by his ear on the wind.

            "C'mon, just give me another week. I promise I'll get it," one voice pleaded.

            "You've had over three months already," another countered.

            After that was only a soft grunt, and a thud of something hitting the ground. Joey closed his eyes, trying vainly to block out the image his mind was producing. He felt his stomach drop, and took off running again for a block or so.

            _Damned conscience, he thought to himself. But what could he do? Sticking his nose in someone else's business was the surest way to get it removed. Quite painfully at that. His innards were now into full-out acrobatics, and Joey fell to his knees. Helplessness was not a feeling that he enjoyed, but it was a persistent one in his life. It was one that he had tried so many times to escape. His memory drifted back to his attempts, and one in particular._

            Not long ago, and old middle school associate of his decided to expand his turf. The guy had propositioned that Joey join him, but there was no way Joey wanted to go back to that. He had just gotten into high school, and Yugi was becoming his best, and only, friend. There was no way Joey Wheeler could screw up this time. What he hadn't counted on, though, was Hirutani's threat to mess with everyone Joey's class. His conscience had gotten to him then, too. He couldn't just stand by and watch something like that happen.

            Then he remembered who had gotten him out of it. All of his friends: Tristan, Téa, and especially Yugi. Joey couldn't believe he had so much support in his life. There were so many times he felt he didn't even deserve them, but they were still there.

            Finally breaking Joey's intense reverie was a scream coming from a nearby alley. His conscience caught up to him, and he ran as fast as he could towards the source of the sound. He felt the adrenaline released into his system in anticipation of what he might find.

            His eyes were greeted with the sight of four guys- tough, brainless muscle types- and in their midst one young girl with long brown hair, and matching chestnut eyes. The guys had formed a circle around her, but she stood in their midst in a fight-ready stance.

            One of the guys grabbed for her arm, and she yelped in reply, turning towards him with a kick to his head. Another took opportunity of her distraction and grabbed her from behind. She elbowed him in the side, but his distraction wasn't long enough to let her escape, and in the next moment, he had the sharp blade of a hidden knife pressed against her neck. She froxe instantly, and gritted her teeth. He pulled it away and pushed her to the ground in one smooth motion. The girl let out another cry, but was then silent and still, a trickle of blood coming from her forehead.

            "Who goes first?" one of the guys asked.

            Joey's eyes widened. _That's it..._

            "Are you morons all so weak that it takes four a'ya ta smack around a girl, or are ya just too stupid ta be able ta do it on ya'own?"

            Four pairs of eyes, burning with anger, looked back at Joey. "Get the hell outta here blondie, this ain't none of your damn business."

            "I guess I'm _makin'_ it my business. And my suggestion is that you leave her alone," Joey answered. His voice was hard. He was scared of course, four on one was never good odds, but he couldn't stand to see someone get treated like that. Especially no girl.

            One of the thugs chuckled. "What, you want the bitch?" he mocked. The brute grabbed the girl by the hair and picked her up like a rag doll dangling from his hand. The blood has created a small maze down her face, and Joey's stomach lurched again.

            "Then take her." The guy pushed her body forward, and Joey made a rush forward to catch her before she hit the ground. In the same moment, one of the other muggers rushed forward and connected with a kick in Joey's right temple, knocking him to the ground and sending his mind reeling. The throbbing from those few short hours ago was back in full force, and a heated spike of rage shot down Joey's spine.

            He could hear their laughter, but between the revived marching band and the anger burning in his head, it was background noise, and wouldn't even be that for long. Joey pulled himself up to his feet and glared at his attackers, his brown eyes hard as steel in resolution.

            "You are gonna regret that..." he said, in a voice so low they could barely hear him above their hyena chatter.

            "Is that so?" the apparent leader of the thugs said. "Why do I get the feelin' that _you're gonna be the one regrettin' once I'm done with you?" With that the guy charged at Joey, his fists ready._

            Joey managed to duck under him and roll away, picking himself back up all in one fluid motion.

            "Is 'at the best ya got? I mean, I saw that punch comin' the day befo'e!"

            The guy growled and charged again, knife in hand, and swung it at Joey. This time Joey grabbed his arm. The blonde-haired hero was a blur as he ducked beneath the thug's arm, came back up and landed a hard kick in his back, still grasping the limb. A loud *CRACK!* sounded and the mugger fell to the ground, wimpering in pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            "Anyone else wanna go?" Joey said, turning to face the remaining three guys. Each was looking with wide-eyed amazement at their boss, and hurriedly shook their heads at the question, maneuvering themselves around Joey and taking off in the other direction down the alley.

            Joey sighed with relief once they were out of range, and rubbed his head again. _Damn, I'd just got ridda that headache, too... He sighed and looked at the mugger again, giving him a finishing kick in the ribs, producing a breathless gasp from the guy on the ground. Then he went back over to the girl that lay still on the cement. He touched her shoulder gently, and she gave a small groan in reply. Joey's eyes widened as he looked at her, blood caked on her hair and skin and spots on her clothes. She turned to look at him, her eyes only half opened._

            "Hey, you ok?" Joey asked.

            The girl groaned again in response. She blinked a few more times to clear the haze from her vision, and found herself staring up into Joey's soft brown eyes.

            "AAH!" she screamed and leapt up away from him, readying herself for another fight.

            "Woah, jus hang on a sec..." Joey said, putting up his hands. The girl looked around,and noticed the other guy still on the ground, wheezing terribly.

            "What happened?" she asked, all business. She didn't drop her guard for a moment, but her eyes darted frantically from Joey to the guy on the ground and back.

            "Hey, you're ok now...isn't that what matters?" Joey asked.

            She took another step back. "You do that to him?" she asked, indicating the guy still groaning a few feet away.

            Joey nodded. "I was just trying to help..." he started.

            "I didn't need any help!" she snapped.

            "Didn' look like that ta me."

            She clenched her fists tighter, and looked like she was about to charge him herself. She never got the chance. She began rocking back and forth slightly, then crumpled to the ground. Joey rushed forward and caught her before she hit the ground too hard.

            "I think it's time ta get you to a hospital..." Joey started again.

            "NO!" she yelled. "You can't take me to a hospital. Whatever you do, don't take me to a hospital."

            Joey looked at her incredulously. "Whaddaya mean? You got blood all over, an' you're obviously hurt..."

            "They'll call my parents."

            Joey was silenced. He somehow knew exactly what she meant, and in that knowledge, he would honor her wish. "But we do have ta get ya a li'l cleaned up, y'know."

            She nodded. "I know a place, come on." She stood up, somewhat woozily, and led him through the alley. "I was actually on my way there when I was attacked." She stopped for a moment.

            "Sorry about that, too. I...never said thank you."

            Joey grinned his usual goofball smile. "Eh, it was nothin'."

            She smiled softly. "What's your name?"

            "I's Joey. Joey Wheeler."

            The girl smiled at him. "I'm Roxanne, but friends call me Roxie. Nice to meet you."

            Joey blushed a little, and wasn't quite sure why. "Back at'cha," he said, hoping his voice didn't give away his sudden nervousness.

            Joey scratched his head as he followed Roxanne. He couldn't think of a single time that a girl had ever looked at him quite like...that. He shook his head.

            _What am I thinkin'? I did her a favor, she's grateful. I would be to if someone came along and saved my keista. Then again...wha's 'is funky feelin' in my stomach?_

Roxie led him to the back of one of the buildings. A rusted fire escape hovered a half-dozen feet above their heads.

            "Gimme that garbage can," she said, pointing a little further down the narrow passage.

            Joey obliged and wheeled the canister towards her, as quietly as possible amidst the loud echo of squeaky metal wheels. He held her hand as she hoisted herself on top of the container, and she helped him up. Her hand felt warm against his skin, and rejoiced at a touch that wasn't followed by a bitter sting. Roxie turned back to the fire escape, and leapt off the garbage can, grabbing the bottom rung and hoisting herself up the ladder until she was on the landing. The metal of the fire escape gave a creaking groan in answer to her weight, but it held.

            "See? Easy as pie," she said.

            "You gotta be kidding me," Joey replied.

            Roxanne shook her head. "Come on, Joey. You can do this. Prove yourself worthy!" she commanded in a proud voice, followed by a chuckle.

            Joey grinned, and followed her lead. He grasped the bottom rung of the ladder, but his weight swung him too hard and he lost his grip, falling hard on his back to the ground below.

            "Joey!" Roxie leapt off the landing and slid down the ladder, landing softly to the ground and rushing to his side. "Joey, are you ok?"

            The blonde sat up and rubbed his head. "T'ink I'll be seein' double for a few days, but 'at's no biggie."

            "Guess we'll have to take the long way," Roxanne said as she helped him to his feet. "Come on." She took his hand again and guided him around the building again, this time to the front door.

            "All dat trouble when you can walk in da front door?" Joey asked.

            Roxie shrugged. "It's more fun that way." Joey rolled his eyes and followed her into the building. To say that the interior was dismal was a severe understaement. Above their heads hung an unconvered lightbulb that gave off grim, gloomy light to a very small area. From what Joey could see, the walls of the inside of the building were battle-scarred with various water and fire damage, as well as signs of general neglect. The placed reeked with an odor that permeated everything, and Joey nearly gagged on the stench.

            "Sorry about that," Roxanne apologized, "but we won't be in here long. Follow me." Joey nodded and did as he was told. Roxie led him up several flights of stairs, or rather, what was left of them. Only one out of every two or three steps still existed, and those that did gave loud creaks under the slightest pressure, making their journey a loud one. Finally Roxanne stopped in front of a door at the top of the stairs and jiggled the knob slightly. She heaved herself at the door with her shoulder towards it, but it didn't budge.

            "Lemme try," Joey offered. He turned the knob and threw his weight at the door as hard as he could. It flew open before him, and he stumbled forward, landing nearly on his face.

            Roxie laughed. "Well that was graceful."

            Joey blushed as he stood up. "Got it open, didn' I?"

            Roxanne nodded and smiled at him. He finally had the opportunity to look around and realize that they were on the roof. She took his hand and led him to the edge. Joey's jaw dropped at the sight.

            "Dis is amazin'..." he breathed. Below them lay the city of Domino, sprawled out for miles in its glory. The city lights created a dotted patchwork of multicolored lights that burned vibrantly against the dark backdrop of night. Each individual bulb sparkled like glitter, and Joey felt his breath catch in his throat.

            "I come up here everynight," Roxie began, half-absently. "It feels like I'm looking down at the stars."

            Joey agreed. He felt like he had somehow found his way to heaven, looking down from clouds over his home, his friends, everything.

            _I didn't know dis kinda beauty existed..._

            His eyes widened slightly when he felt Roxanne's head against his shoulder. He looked at her both curious and nervous. Her eyes were closed; she looked so peaceful. Joey blushed slightly, but let her stay there, and gazed out at the blanket of stars below.

            _Or maybe I did._


End file.
